


Reflections and Echos

by RedBirdBella



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Early Clint and Natashas relationship, F/M, Strike Team Delta, this is a journey we are all on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBirdBella/pseuds/RedBirdBella
Summary: Early days of Clint and Natasha's work relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Clintasha fic so be kind and constructive!

Before he was an agent Clint was an adrenaline junkie, in fact, he needed adrenaline like most people need oxygen and like any other addict he was always searching for that next stomach churning, jelly-legged, tight-chested rush. It was why he became an agent and probably why he had the Black Widow in his room right now staring at him with a glare icy enough to make his future descendants shiver years in the future. 

“So, what do you want?” He says with a smile as if she was meant to be there, weapons, handcuffs and all “we all know how to get out of handcuffs, so I’m flattered but why come home with me?”

She grunts pulling her hands out of the loose handcuffs and chucking them back to him. 

“you want something?” he offers gesturing to the supplies in the corner “please take, always happy to help another assassin out” 

Her glare doesn’t break, and Clint pulls a chair over sinking down in it clutching the back of the chair to his chest and matching her glare. He’s not scared, not if you asked him, but someplace deep within him is screaming like it knows this woman spells danger as much as the actual black widows he’d faced in Australia. A long time ago he would have been afraid. Arachnophobia had never been a word he’d known until it didn’t apply to him until Barney had told him often enough “there more scared of you then you are of them” that he began to feel a kindred spirit with the little creatures. People seemed to fear him, his messy past and unpredictable future but no one ever seemed to understand the fear he felt being around people. They were unknown to him, with no comprehension of what he’d been through only sympathy which inflamed the pain like cleaning a wound they couldn’t hope to heal. Normal people with jobs and schedules and hobbies and mortgages. Not the woman who glared back at him. 

“The infamous Black Widow” he murmurs trying the words out on his tongue, spelling them out as if they might spill her secrets before she did. They didn’t, the words tasted bitter, like an echo to a memory that flashed across his mind before he could stop it and Clint wished he could forget. He drops his head on to his crossed arms evermore determined to figure her out “Welcome- Now what brings you to Tokyo?”

The woman looks at him with contempt “My job brought me here and you followed me. Cut to the chase now Hawk. I’m in your room.” 

“You’re in my room” Clint echoes voice even “If id have known you were coming I’d have cleaned it up for you” 

“I like it dirty” The woman says pouting voice low and purring.

“That was lazy. You can do better.” Clint says but he feels a tug at the corner of his lips anyway. 

She shrugs, “you still haven’t told me what you want”. The words echoed again in Barneys voice. ‘There more scared of you then you are of them.’

“I haven’t.” He says taking a deep breath “I’d like you to join me” he feels something icy pool in his stomach “Join me at S.H.I.E.L.D.” the rush follows swiftly after. Phil was going to kill him. 

She scoffs at him and it's almost a laugh. “Your funny hawk”

“We’ve followed you closely enough to know the Red Room isn’t looking after you anymore. You’re a free agent! Alice or whatever the hell your name is, S.H.I.E.L.D. would put you to good use”

One perfectly shaped arch of an eyebrow rises on the woman’s face. “I bet they would”

“They are good people, with Codes and Conducts- Ethics” he leans in, “If they saved me they can save you.”

“I don’t need saving”

“A warm roof over your head on missions and some food wouldn’t go amiss either though- I’ve been watching you” 

“I know”

“You’re a gun for hire and I’m offering to hire you permanently,” He says the words like he has the authority to offer her such a thing. The words sound cool and detached and he’s almost impressed that he keeps his tone business-like as the adrenaline pumps thick and fast through his veins. 

“I’ll level with you widow” she leans back sneering at the nickname, “I want to put together a Strike team- Strike team Delta. Me and you. What do you say?”

“your delusional”

“your still here”

She rolls her eyes. 

“I'm still alive. Look were at the top of our game - evenly matched. That kill you pulled off back in that warehouse, it would take me years to train that.”

“I’ve killed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents – ‘good people,’ bystanders! they wouldn’t want me.”

“They would. If you’ve killed S.H.I.E.L.D.s agents I think you owe them a debt-”

“ok”

Clint blinks slowly that was fast, “alright then. I’ll let them know- go and gather your things, we leave 1”


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t until Clint was pouring his second cup of coffee into a chipped white mug that he realised he should probably be doing something more proactive, calling Phil for example. He decides to savour it, but it’s gone all too soon, and he has to pick up the phone and dial the familiar number. 

It rings once. Twice. Then bursts into life.

“This better be good news, Barton.” The voice comes through calmed and clipped. Phil always was even when taken by surprise.

“Oh, Hi Clint, how’s Tokyo? How are you?” 

“Answer the question. I don’t have time for a courtesy call, we’re about to leave to collect you“

“That’s why I’m calling- uh- it isn’t just me you need to collect. I’ve hired her.” Barton says stroking his stubble enjoying the distracting sting warming his fingers. 

“I better have misheard that Agent” Coulson’s voice drops a few degrees. 

“She’s a gun for hire. I’ve hired her on S.H.I.E.L.D.s behalf – for strike team Delta. She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before”

“Right, so I’ll just start planning your funeral now shall I?!”

“No, you should start planning for her arrival.”

Coulson sighs before taking a deep breath. It was meant to be calming, he'd need more than fresh air if the doctor’s consistent complaints about his rising blood pressure were anything to go by. Ever since Barton had arrived he’d needed every relaxation tip in the book. Though Phil had always handled it with surprising grace, his desire to give the world its next Captain America coming above any discomfort he may feel. 

“Right- what do you need?”

“For everyone to understand she’s coming in willingly,” Barton says not meeting a beat.

“Can I at least talk to her?”

“She’s gone to gather her stuff”

“This better go well, Barton-“

“It will. I’ve never let you down.”

Coulson sighs again “I’ll call Fury. You're going to need to fly the Quinjet home. I’m bringing a small crew. You, me another pilot- Maria- Maria can fly- and her, the widow. That’ll limit the damage she can do. Would you drug her?”

“No. Shes not my mark, she's my partner”

“You haven’t screwed her yet?”

“No. I don’t want to. I want her skill set. I don’t want to wade through the brats that come in to look for a strike partner when she has all the Skills I need.”

“Don’t get attached. Don’t want your heart broken again” Phil says softening but hanging up before Barton could gloat. He wasn’t that emotional.

Clint skims the TV channels listening out for the widows return, he wonders what she’d think if she’d walked in now him lying on the bed looking lazy and lethargic - at least he wouldn’t be scared - she’d like that too much. 

It takes 20 more minutes for Natasha to return and to Clint’s shock, she knocks first.

“Come in”

He looks her up a down she’s wearing a beaten up grey jacket and carrying three black bags of varying lengths and sizes, and judging by what Clint had seen in her flat they contain everything she owns. 

“Come in its freezing out there,” Clint says gesturing to the chair he had sat on earlier. There’s no going back now. After some hesitation she sits looking beautiful but creepy, the only comparison Clint can think to draw is to the porcelain dolls he’d feared in the fortune tellers trailer. Spiders and Dolls, Clint’s irrational fears but any fear he could have of the woman in front of him would be very rational. Yet he wasn’t afraid. The rush was still there, his heartbeat still quickens when he looked at her, but Clint doesn’t want to dig too deep into why just yet.

He shakes his head focusing back on the woman- no- the matter at hand, her arms and legs have folded in seemingly desperate not to take up too much space under his glare. He could almost believe she felt the fear she portrayed but he had watched her for too long, knew the masks she wore, “not getting cold feet about this, are you?” he asks sitting up and smiling at her, holding his cards close to his chest. She would already know his weaknesses by now surely. How his breathing quickened whenever she moved, how he had her in his aim but not fired but how deep down he loved that. This was a game and it was too early in their partnership spoil the fun and get down to business. Phil would ensure that happened but for now, he would make his move. 

“There’s tea, coffee, water over there if you want? Go knock yourself out- but pick wisely there’s only one correct answer” She smiles meeting his eyes then glancing away quickly, this was going to get annoying quickly, “we are being picked up at 1- so I suggest you ask me any questions you might have.” 

Natasha looks up again but holds his gaze a little longer smile sickly sweet. Finding the woman, each man preferred was essential to staying alive. The specimen standing in front of her proved a little more challenging, the Red Room hadn’t given training on seducing Hawks before.

“Whats the right answer?” 

“huh?”

She smiles nervously, green eyes bright under her dark lashes “to the drinks question”

Barton looks at her with enough sympathy to make her skin crawl, “It was a joke widow. Stop trying so hard. We’re co-workers nothing more, don’t lower yourself to this”

She straightens up, glaring at him with that same steel as before, but Barton couldn’t help but notice her stomach flutter with the shaky breath she lets out “Better. I don’t like being had Widow” He watches her jaw tighten, a step too far Barton he chides himself. If they were playing a game, the first round ended in Stalemate. 

Natasha never got a drink the remaining chipped mug. They sit in uncomfortable silence and in some ways Natasha prefers it like this. What they don’t say in the silence speaks to her of a mutual respect between the two. They leave in plenty of time, Natasha doesn’t comment when she sees Clint pushes his few belongings into a backpack leaving the safe house clean. They walk Natasha a few paces ahead.

At the pick-up site, no one says anything, but Natasha sticks close to him falling into step as the board the quin-jet in the near darkness. If they killed her now no one would know, or mourn, or even miss her, the world might rejoice one less killer in the world. Natasha shivers, the world suddenly colder pulling her jacket showing off her slim waist smiling sweetly at Clint when he turns to introduce her to Agent Coulson words missing the courtesy they usually contained. Phil takes it as a warning that this is hawkeye talking and keeps his distance. Clint takes his place by Maria in the cockpit turning around to check on his new partner every so often. Shaking his head when she makes herself a coffee strong and dark. The right answer. 

Phil and Maria had just started to doze as the Quinjet landed the silence in the plane making sleep irresistible. Clint lands the plane taking off his headset before joining her, “Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D widow-“The door of the Quinjet opens suddenly, gap overflowing with Fury and four armed guards “looks like we're gonna make you feel right at home”. Yep, this felt like home alright.


End file.
